"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
Winter was coming. Up in the mountains, where Silk had not yet ventured, he knew there would be much snow. Down in the lower lands it had yet to come down in force, but every now and then there were small snow showers, briefly coating the ground before it would melt. His winter coat had grown out and he was quite fluffy all over - except, of course, for his leathery wings. No fur nor feathers had grown there and they never would. It didn't bother him. Perhaps when he was young he would have been defensive of his different appearance, but as he'd gotten old her had learned to love the odd-looking things. They were just as good at carrying him through the skies as any feathered wings were, and that was really all that mattered. Plus, he had claws that he could use to scratch with if needed. That was a handy add-on.
But he wasn't in the the mountains. He was in Heavenly Fields. The grass was dying, but there were still patches of green that were good for eating. Grass was nutritious, sure, but he had recently gotten a taste of horse blood - and that had tasted awfully good. Of course, he was not ready to divulge this information to anyone else. Generally any form of cannibalism was frowned upon, and Silk was still a big fan of grass that actually fed his body. He stopped as he reached a patch, and nudged it with his muzzle. He'd lost his appetite for the green stuff, and instead lay down and rolled, scratching his body upon the dead grass, softening the touch with the healthy. He rose and shook, flexing his wings. With his winter coat the air felt good, the grass felt good, his wings felt good. The stretch of his muscles carried a small bit of pain, and it felt refreshing.
The small wound that Parelia had given him to his jaw was annoying, but had caused no real problems. That small pulse was combined with the good pain, and Silk grunted. He'd have words - or more - with that childish punk some later time. He was not sure how he felt about her when they first met, and it seemed that their interactions went somewhat downhill from there. It did not seem like a big loss to him. Maybe they'd spar, and he could taste her blood again. Satanic indeed.
She watched from the shadows as the winged stallion came into her field and started rolling in her grass. Hers because she was there and anyone smart enough would have noticed the scent of death that permeated the air. Only a little while before Histe and Merikh had hunted and killed a deer that had been grazing innocently enough on the dying grass. They had dragged the animal into the shadows that the trees offered, Histe had eaten her fill but Merikh was still eating and gnawing on bones.
The cougar looked up from his meal, tongue swiping over his bloody maw as his amber eyes sought out what had gotten his bonded's attention. He sat up, licked at his chest, then looked at the stallion once again with a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Another hunt?" He asked and a grin curved the corners of Histe's bloodstained mouth. "Perhaps." Came her answer. "Depends on the skyrat's attitude."
The brindled mare's head dipped down and she grabbed a chunk of meat that Merikh had ripped from the carcass and set aside from her, then strode forward. Blood dripped from her mouth as she chewed, pale eyes fixated on the stallion, who she was beginning to find looked like a plucked bird. Several feet away she came to a halt and stared, ears back and tail flicking from side to side in irritation, but Histe was always irritated. Always blood thirsty. Always looking for the next fight, the next conquest, next victim, and very rarely someone who could share in her taste for blood.
What category Silk would fall in was completely up to him.
Silk stood, staring at nothing, eyes glazed over. But as he heard her approach that all changed. Her scent was female, 'plain' equine. But even in her odor there was something far from plain. He scented blood and death as she approached. Though he'd seen blood and death before, he did not often combine the thought with living, daily equines. There was something awfully strange about this one. She had stopped near him before he had fully turned to take in the appearance of this new - whatever she was. His nares flared, trying to reconcile the scents that she brought with him. Mare, blood, flesh, and was that the scent of a cougar? He had not much experience with those, but tended to stay away. Their claws and teeth were not so friendly toward horse flesh. His orbs widened, taking in all the information that the sight before him held. Shorter than he, but perhaps a little older - her attitude spoke that even before she could say a word. Her eyes were pale, her coat a rare brindled pattern. The most obvious and intriguing detail, of course, was that her lips and teeth were coated in blood, and she seemed to be chewing a piece of meat. Well, son of a bitch...
The mare looked irritated with him. Though of course, he had no idea the real reason why she was already pissed. As far as he could tell, he had done nothing wrong, and whatever was biting her rump was her problem. He cocked his head and a small, teensy smile pricked at his lips. A smartass remark had already formed and was pushing its way past his lips. To hell with manners. "I see you're enjoying yourself. Did your cougar friend cut up your meat for you?" Perhaps he should be afraid of another who enjoying chowing down on flesh, but fear was the furthest thing from his mind. He chuckled quietly and stepped a few paces closer, getting a better look at her.
The winged stallion spoke and Histe's ears stayed flat against her skull. The tone of his voice and his question only served to further the brindle's ever present irritation. She continued to chew the chunk of the meat, her flat teeth grinding it until she swallowed. Blood continued to drip from her lips and it stained the grass around her gore coated hooves. The stallion stepped closer and her head tilted slightly, a sign to Merikh that his skills might be needed to put the imbecile in his place.
"Would you like to see?" She asked in her rough voice, her hooves moving as she began to circle around the stallion. "I haven't had skyrat in quite some time." She giggled then allowed a wicked grin to curl her lips. Where would she even begin? With the wings? She could rip them off one by one like a little bug and watch him as he panicked and writhed in pain. She could shower him in acid and tenderize his flesh a little, add a little bit of flavor to it.
Histe bared her teeth and clicked them together, her eyes never leaving the stallion as she circled. "I do think I'd start with your wings first." She decided aloud, to which Merikh agreed with a low growl. "It wouldn't hurt for too long." She promised, the grin growing more malicious with each passing word. "I bet you're tender."
Unnerving, the bloodthirsty the vixen was. Singleminded and insatiable. That was apparent from the very start. Again, Silk should have been frightened. Terrified down to the bones and ready to take flight at that very moment, before she or her cougar friend had a chance to lash out. But for stupidity, courage, bravado -- who knows -- he had not the slightest tremor. Perhaps he'd lost his mind, or perhaps he'd gotten a new, very large set of cajones. It did not matter anyway, but it made for an interesting sight. Of course, his comment to her had egged her on, and perhaps was not the smartest move he could have made. But it had been irresistible, and it was certainly too late to retract the jest now.
She circled him, and the iron-laden blood that dripped from her rough lips fell upon the grass around him. He watched her with mild amusement and only the slightest hint of apprehension. Of course, if she was going to go for his wings he'd have to do something about that. But in the mean time... "I don't think I'm tender at all, more chewy." His head turned from side to side as she circled him, and he flicked his tail at her playfully as she reached his backside. Certainly she wouldn't like that, but he didn't much care. "Tell me, what shall I call you, O Bloodthirsty One? I haven't met one like you before and I certainly want to attach a name to this unforgettable experience." He smiled at her, not mockingly, but with no particular warmth. Just a simple smile. He was being perfectly honest, in fact, and was truly curious.
WC: 279
Operating as if the Asylum thread hasn't happened.
She snorted at the stallion when he claimed that he would be chewy and not tender like she expected him to be. "I'll be the judge of that." She snapped angrily at the impudent bat. Her tail continued to flick from side to side as she circled around silk. She came to a halt to his left, her eyes locked on the area where wing met shoulder. Her mouth was almost watering as she thought of sinking her teeth into that muscle and just ripping it apart.
His voice interrupted her train of thoughts and the mare's ears disappeared into the blackness of her mane, her pale eyes narrowing in a glare that would make give anyone sane the chills. "Histe." She grunted roughly. "You may call me Histe. And I will call you... dinner." Her tongue swiped over her blood coated lips and she grinned wickedly at the stallion.
Merikh crept forward, keeping low in the tall grass so that he would blend in. The only way anyone would know he was there was if they watched for the gentle sway of the grass that had nothing to do with the wind. The cougar circled around and positioned himself on Silk's other side, opposite of Histe.
The she-demon was approaching him, teeth bared and mouth watering. It was clear she meant to eat him on the spot. There was no teasing about it, no games. She meant every word she said. Silk was disgruntled, to say the least. Surely she couldn't go around eating every horse she met? That was just ridiculous. A voice in the back of his head told him that she surely could. Well that's still ridiculous. Ridiculous or not, she was edging closer still, and his ears picked up the rustle of grass, moving closer. Her cougar was going to have him as a snack too. His muscles tensed, preparing to fight her and keep her hungry chompers at bay. But first, a last snide remark. "You really shouldn't eat every beast you stumble upon, it's not at all flattering for your figure."
He thought he might continue, but he stopped. The sweating from earlier, as he had vanished from the Sanctuary. The infection was taking over. He had hoped, he had prayed, that the vixen in the cave had not infected him. Hoping and praying had done him no good. The scrape on his neck was infected and festering, bright red with some white and green pus. The sweat that he had generated from the heat of the Heart and the panic of the moment had never left. Now it was more than just his chest, girth and neck that were sweaty. His flank, his ears, between his legs.... He was beginning to sweat like he had his own personal storm pouring down over him. In moments his entire body was drenched in sweat, the shine reflective in the dim light. He panted, trying to catch his breath - no longer even aware of the heathen about to devour him.
A pain began where his infected scrape was, and it seemed to be spreading, and fast. This infection was going to take him quickly, and leave no part of him untouched, that much was certain. The air suddenly seemed toxic, as if it some sort of nerve gas paralyzing him, and he couldn't get any oxygen into his lungs. He tried to gasp for air but there was none. His head pounded and he closed his eyes in agony. The pain was unbearable. Still gasping for air, it felt like his insides were melting. Liquifying and falling from his body. Dissolving. He looked at his sides and found to his horror that much of the skin had disappeared, either sloughed off or simply vanished. Shreds of skin were hanging from his bones, and his muscles looked decayed and underdeveloped, some parts appearing like the tissue had been carved out, even. He was a shadow of his former self. He glanced at his wings and found that surprisingly, they looked remarkably the same, apart from a few more shreds hanging from them. Apparently the infection took a liking to them. He stopped, suddenly he realized he was no longer gasping for air. But at the same time, it didn't seem like he was actually breathing. He was, but, he wasn't. He looked down his snout and found that when he exhaled, green smoke came out through his nostrils. His eye sight was more piercing, more perceptive, his hearing more keen. Now he could hear the cougar in the grass, its breathing as it moved and waited to pounce.
And then, his thoughts were no longer his own.
Infect I must infect. The she beast is no one worth protecting but she looks so delicious. She wants to eat you why do you not eat her. Brindle body crazy mane so delicate and.. yummy. Blood from her lips what does it taste like I want to taste it. What would she look like I wonder I wonder if I were to taste her taste her insides infect her body like a contagion. Would she look like me I want to know if she looks like me. So evil I wonder let me help help her be me. You are mine mine now now you are mine. Grinders longer, fangs sharpened. Body amiss infection spread. No resistance no battle only hunger. Insatiable hunger must feed must infect SPREAD ME. Spread the virus spread the contagion. SPREAD ME. Oh I will. Spread the contagion. Survival. Death. No more. Do it. Now I want you. I want you. I WANT YOU. Do it now. SPREAD ME.
Quicker than eyes could behold, body moving faster than light's fastest sprint. Body angled hooves flying, teeth grasping, fangs sharpened. Aim for chest, for neck. Kill, infect. Win. No more Histe. Gas, gas her. Suffocate. Hooves land again did I miss? No, no I got something. Blood in the air. Yes yes. I want you. Histe. Mine. She demon is mine. I want you. SPREAD ME.
WC: 805
Attacked chest or neck, pretty sure he got blood. Not sure if it was with fangs or hooves. @[Random Event]
Histe let the insult that he slung at her slide because it would only be a matter of minutes before the stallion was dead at her hooves. She would decorate her body with his blood, add his crimson to the grotesque warpaint that would eventually cover every inch of her muscled body. He would learn his place but unfortunately for him he wouldn't benefit from it. "Kill him now?" Merikh's voice echoed in her head and the brindled mare grinned her answer. "Tick, tock." She hummed. "Your time is running out." She flicked her tail and began to circle around again then stopped because something seemed wrong all of a sudden.
"Run! Go! Run now!" The mare blinked as her father's voice, who had been quiet for sometime, was suddenly screaming in her head. "You idiot, run!"
"Listen to him, Histe!" Then came Huinne's voice. "Go! Something isn't right!"
Ever the rebel, Histe ignored the voices and instead began to tap into her magic. The storm clouds gathered quickly as she watched the flesh melt from the stallion that would have been her victim. Lightning split the sky and thunder cracked and she continued to watch as his body began to fall to pieces right before her eye.
When he launched himself toward her Histe allowed the rain to finally fall from the sky, the downpour of acid stinging her flesh in a way that was comforting to her while it hurt others. She lifted herself onto her hind legs and met the wraith head on. His teeth latched onto her neck and she tried to twist away, her own teeth snapping at his rotting body, however unappetizing it was looking now.
From the grass beside them Merikh appeared, his claws and teeth ready to sink into the wraith that was attacking his bonded.
The vixen her body resisting the infection. Resisting my infection. Why must she resist me? Don't resist me. Can't you feel my love pouring from my soul into your soul. Don't resist. Poison the longs my breath is poisonous for you the green from my nares to yours. Your ivories snap SNAP at me but they are so pretty why would I be afraid? Don't be afraid, pretty lady painted in blood. So pretty is your painting, can I paint too? I don't have fingers but my tongue will do what about my tail and my wings. Oh my wings I can paint with my claws let me paint with your blood.
Ivories snap, shrieks all around. Defend yourself lovely lady defend yourself. Your ivories tear into my rotting flesh and it feels so good, do it again. Sharp, not like your man's fangs, his fangs meant for ripping into my flesh and tearing me to shreds, to close around my windpipe and suffocate me. But you don't want to suffocate me do you? You like me pretty lady I know it inside. I can be your friend too, lady of painted so pretty. Old instincts take over, to protect and defend and step back I do. Step back but my hooves are up, flying in her face, my wings propelling forward, claws on the ends swiping at your skin. Your flesh is not rotten, what pretty marks can I make? Your brindles will look like nothing when I'm done with you.
I land, not caring if you are wounded or merely annoyed. I cackle, my voice raspy and seemingly choked with blood. I sound gutted, like I might be dying. But I am not dead pretty lady I am undead. Infected wraith. Wraith. My infection tells me to spread. SPREAD ME. But I have tried and you have resisted. Perhaps you will spend time with me and become infected or perhaps you will be the one immune to it all. SPREAD. I tried, precious infection I tried. Lobes loose on my skull, the tendons barely connected to move them around. Orbs sunken but bright red and almost slick with blood, dripping over the irises. His pupils are barely visible.
"Perhaps. But now, what do I care?" Gurgle, gurgle. "Am I tasty, my pretty lady painted in blood?"
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![[Image: silkicon2_by_lainey_lou-d73bsek.png]](http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2014/022/e/b/silkicon2_by_lainey_lou-d73bsek.png)
